Stolen by Lucy Christopher, Ty Writes Back
by nora1407
Summary: This is Ty's perspective of Stolen. I have followed the book's events exactly & it's in the letter format. Review if you think I should put up the next chapter...
1. Chapter 1

_Hey people! So this is Stolen from Ty's perspective. Not the most original concept but I had fun doing it and thought you might enjoy it. I followed the book exactly, keeping all the dialogue but have interjected my own idea of what Ty was thinking. Please review if you want me to write the next chapter… _

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Stolen, Ty, Gemma or the dialogue in this – it's all Lucy Christopher's**

THE COFFEE SHOP

I couldn't see you. I knew where to look for you but you weren't there yet. It was the first time in fourteen hours you'd been out of my sight.

I'd watched you arguing with your parents. You had been mad, they had been mad. You'd said you would see them in twenty minutes. They didn't even say bye to you.

That one gesture made me sure I was right. How could I let you be around people that wouldn't even say goodbye to you? But the fact was, I knew I would never say bye to you.

I knew you were coming for the coffee shop. I'd heard you ask someone where it was. So I'd ducked ahead to make sure I could be there when you showed. I suddenly grew worried that you'd gotten lost or turned back to apologise. Had going ahead ruined everything?

But you showed up then. Just in time. You always were.

I could see the relief on your face when you spotted the beige coffee cup on the sign. I watched you come in through the dusty window-pane. I wanted to be closer. But I didn't want to freak you out at the same time. I couldn't afford that. What would happen in this shop would determine the rest of our lives. I couldn't risk screwing it up.

You caught my eye as you went to line up and I thought for second all was lost. That you would some how be able to read my mind, see what I was planning. I jerked my head away, not wanting you to know. I hoped that you would come up with some reason as to why I'd been looking at you. Something about being a rude person or zoning out. You turned back to the approaching counter. I leaned forward slightly, trying to see if your face was white with horror. It was ghostly white but there was no horror in your eyes. You knew nothing.

Someone was leaving the bench now. You moved up and lent into it, giving your order to the uni student behind the counter. You fumbled through your bag for the money. The student was back with your coffee before you'd found it. You let out a sigh and pulled your bag open to let the light shine through. That helped because a second later you were counting out coins on your hand.

I could tell from my seat that they were British coins in your hand. I could see the edge of the fifty pence glinting. I knew this was my chance. I got up from my seat. The student from behind the counter by now had noticed your coin problem too.

'We don't take British coins,' he said, stopping you mid count. 'Don't you have a note?'

You shook your head. There was a sort of pleading tone when you tried to justify why you didn't have one, 'I used it in London.'

The student didn't bend to your will through. He'd probably heard that a million times. Almost as if he were programmed to do so he offered, 'there's a cash machine next to duty-free.'

This was my opening. I reached into my pocket, pulling a note from it as I sidled up to your shoulder. I was so close, closer than I'd ever been to you.

'Let me buy it,' I said. It felt good to say something to you, knowing that you could say something back. You looked up to me, straight into my eyes. My soul. Your eyes stayed there, considering. But just as soon as you'd turned you were turning away. You made room for me to move to the counter. I took it as a yes and handed the note over. You were silent as I took the cup, clasping it a little too hard with my nervousness.

'Sugar? One?' I asked, filling the gap. I'd seen you make your coffee a million times but thought I should ask nonetheless. You nodded, confusion still hanging over your face.

'Don't worry, I'll do it. You sit down.' I tried to sound comforting. I pointed to the little table I'd been sitting, showing you where to sit. It had two artificial palms on either side. Like our own little paradise.

You didn't move towards the table. You were scared of paradise. I knew you would be. I reached out and for the first time touched you. Even through the cotton of your shirt you felt good, right. Thinking back, my patting you on the shoulder probably didn't mean anything to you. It was monumental to me. The shock it sent through me was like nothing else.

I had to focus, get you on my side. Trick you. I didn't want to. But I had to.

'Hey, it's OK, I won't bite,' I said as gently as I could. A chaotic family caught my eye. There was a spare seat next to them. 'There's no other seats anyway, not unless you want to sit with the Addams family over there.'

My ultimatum worked, resolve spreading across your face, 'I only just escaped my family. I don't want another one yet." I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

'Nice work,' I joked, I even winked at you. Those twelve words, the first you'd said to me in six years sounded so good. They filled me with confidence. You were here. Talking to _me_. Looking at _me_. 'One sugar it is then.'

I guided you to our table. Ten steps from the seats I let you go and turned to the condiment cart. I watched you as you walked to the table, feeling in my pocket for the vial. It was there. I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled it out carefully. It was only tiny. The size of those perfume samples your mom collected from magazines.

I put the sugar in first. Then looked up to check where your eyes were. I caught them. They were on me. I held onto them as I quickly dumped the vial's powder into the cup. I smiled, knowing I had kept you from seeing the addition to your coffee. You looked away and I grabbed a plastic teaspoon from the cart and stirred in the powder.

I didn't put in that much. There was only a pinch in the vial. There used to be more but I'd tried some on myself. The guy I bought it from had said it would keep you awake but out of it. I had to be sure it would work though, so I'd taken some. It'd knocked me around a bit. I barely remember the day after I took it. I hadn't put as much in your cup. You were half my size and probably had a quarter of my strength. You didn't need it and I didn't want you over dosing on the plane.

My eyes stuck to you as I walked to the table. Your dark hair against your pale skin. The curve of your neck. The freckle on your arm. The top you were wearing let me see a lot.

I put your coffee down in front of you, pushing the coffee I'd had before you arrived to the side. You took it, taking the smallest sip I'd ever seen. I was worried that you had considered the possibility of my plan but then you let out a little breath and I realised that you just thought it was hot.

I picked up the teaspoon I stirred your drink with. I played with it in my hands, trying to keep myself from looking at you. From the corner of my eye I could see you watching me. I wanted to know what you were thinking. I wanted to ask you. Instead I followed social etiquette.

'I'm Ty,' I said, letting it hang there. I wasn't sure if I should offer my hand but I did. I needed to feel you again. You put your hand in my open fingers. I didn't shake it. That would've seemed so… I don't know, like something your parents would do. I just held it. I let the softness of it press against the cracked skin of my palm. I leaned forward, as if prompting you to return the favour. You realised what I wanted and spoke.

'Gemma,' you said quickly. I'd heard you say it to so many people over the years. Heard so many people say it to you. But now you were telling _me_. I wanted to smile but restrained myself with a question.

'Where are your parents?' Simple enough. You'd mentioned your family a minute ago. I wouldn't set off alarm bells by asking about them. Also, I wanted to make absolutely sure I knew their whereabouts. Sure enough, you thought it was a normal question. I left my hand on yours as you began to answer though. Not wanting to let it go. Ever.

'They've gone to the gate. They're waiting for me there. I said I wouldn't be long – just getting a coffee.'

The irony of that statement got to me. I felt one corner of my mouth turn up involuntarily and let out a small laugh.

'What time does the flight leave?' I asked. I knew of course. But I had to keep you talking. Not only to keep you here but because a change in your speech would be the fastest way to tell if the drugs were working.

''bout an hour,' you said back. I listened close but you sounded normal. They wasn't working yet.

'And where's it going?'

'Vietnam.' I knew that but it still felt good to hear that your parents were headed for one country and you and I were headed to another.

You smiled then. First smile of the day. First smile of the last six years. I wanted to think it was because you were happy at the thought at going with me and not your parents, but it wasn't.

You went on, 'my mum goes there all the time. She's an curator – kind of like an artist who collects instead of paints.'

'Your dad?' I asked, a little too fast. I was on edge now. You should have been about to slump against me not talking about your pretentious parents. Why weren't they working? Were you too strong?

'He works in the city – stockbroker.'

'Suited and booted then.' I didn't know if you heard the disdain in my voice. Both for your dad's job and the fact that you were speaking as clear as day.

You didn't hear my bitterness though and just kept talking, 'something like that. Pretty boring, looking after other people's money…not that he thinks so.'

I could feel a bead of sweat working its way down the side of my head. We were sitting under the air conditioner and it wasn't hot out. I was afraid you'd see it and think something was up. I babbled to distract you.

'So what is it you want to do then? Get a job like your dad? Travel like your mum?'

You shrugged, unworried by my waffling. 'That's what they'd like. I don't know. Nothing really seems right.'

That caught my attention. You felt the same way about your parents as I did. At least it sounded like you did. I pried further, 'not…meaningful enough?'

'Yeah, maybe. I mean, they just collect stuff. Dad collects people's money and mum collects people's drawings. What do they really do that's theirs?' You looked away then, as if you were worried about bagging them out in front of a stranger. But I wasn't a stranger.

I laughed at that thought. How much I knew about you and how much you had to learn about me. You started to glance around the area then. I got scared you were trying to leave so I asked another question, 'what does your mother collect?'

That pulled you back. 'Colours mostly. Paintings of buildings. Shapes. Do you know Rothko? Mark Rothko?'

I frowned. I knew that name. Only because I'd watched you and your mum at everyone of his exhibits. She thought it was art. It wasn't. I knew what art was. You would too soon.

'Well, that kind of stuff. I think it's pretty pretentious. All those endless squares.' You noticed my hand then. Still on top of yours. I knew I had to take it off.

'Sorry,' I said, not really meaning it. I let out a little smile, trying to relieve some of the pressure, 'I guess I'm…a little tense.' I paused for a moment, putting my hand to rest on the table next to yours.

You started with the questions then, 'what do you do? You're not still in school then?' I knew you were nervous after you said that. There was no way you thought I was still at school. I was so clearly not that I wondered if the drugs were starting to affect you.

I answered, wanting to hear your response, 'I suppose I sort of make art too. But I don't paint squares. I travel a bit, garden…build. That sort of thing.' I didn't want to go into details. You would see it all soon enough.

There was a little silence. You didn't reply like I wanted you to. Instead you bit your lip and untucked your hair. Did you want to hide behind it? Were you as tense as I was?

I needed to hear you speak so I backtracked. 'I've never been to Vietnam.'

You replied. 'Or me. I'd rather go to America.'

You didn't sound any different. 'Really, all those cities, those people…' I wanted to tell you that you didn't belong in the city. It was too easy too hide in cities, to get lost with the masses. You shouldn't want to hide. You wouldn't hide from me. With that in mind I reached across the table and tucked the hair you'd let fall behind your ear.

Releasing too late how personal that was I tried to cover it up by apologising, 'sorry, I…'

But I couldn't finish. I was too caught up in the fact that my hand was next to face. Brushing against your skin. I could feel the heat rising in my own cheeks as I moved my hand from your ear to your chin. I moved it so you were looking at me. Only me.

'Wouldn't you rather go to Australia?' I hadn't known I was going to ask that. Something about the closeness, the touch, had made me though and I wanted it to make you say yes.

You laughed. I don't know why. Did you think that was a stupid thought? You wanted to go though, 'sure. Everyone wants to go there.'

_Everyone_. I didn't like how you said '_everyone_ wants to go there'. You weren't everyone, you were just one. My one. The way you said it made it sound as if it was just like Fiji or something. It made me realise how serious this was to me and how much it wasn't to you. I heard you say something but kept my eyes on the ground, not wanting to reply.

But then you reached out. To _me_. You poked my arm, pulling my eyes back to you. It felt good having _you_ want _my_ attention.

'Ty?' you asked. Shivers went up my arm. You had said my name. You had never said it. Except for once last year when you'd asked Anna for a hair tie. It had made my week. Hearing you say it now, actually in context, made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. 'So what's it like anyway? Australia?'

Your voice slipped on the last word and I knew that the drugs were working. I smiled in relief. It was going to work. I was going to save you.

'You'll find out,' I said.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey guys! So here's the next chapter, or page in Ty's letter if you like. Thankyou soooooo much to: erasethestars, Jellybabe, As-Long-As-I'm-Around &____booknerdforever for your kind reviews, they make me write faster =)_

_Hope you like & Please review… _

_P.S To the 4__th__ reviewer who left a comment on 12__th__ Sept. I am soooo sorry I didn't give you a shout out! I really did appreciate your review its just that your username isn't coming up on my computer! PM me & I'll give you a proper shout out! _

**GETTING TO AUSTRALIA**

'How are you feeling?' I knew the drugs were working but I wanted to be sure. I kept my eyes glued to your face as I waited for you to respond. You did. In jibberish.

I could move you now. You were mine. I swept my eyes over the coffee shop, checking that no one was looking directly at us. They weren't. I grabbed your hand, holding it tight for fear that you'd slip into the ocean of people. As I pulled you past the table your leg knocked my still unempty coffee and it ran over your thigh. I knew it would've hurt you usually but you were too high to feel anything. You could've fallen into fire and smiled.

I couldn't have stopped though. I had to save you. Get you to the plane, the right plane. You flailed behind me as I dragged you through the mess of people on the travelators. You felt so light on my hand I thought you had slipped away at times and kept looking back and tightening my grip.

A few officials looked at us funny before the stairs to the exit. I suppose it would have to them. I couldn't risk them stopping us though. Time was of the essence. I had to get you out, changed. So I pulled you to me. You felt like a rag doll in my arms. I flashed a smile at the security guard and said, "we're late for our hotel shuttle and someone's a bit tipsy from the plane."

I don't know if they believed it at first. It sounded legit enough. But then you smiled at them. I knew it meant nothing, that it was just the drugs but to security it really did look like we were just a young couple who had spent too much on aeroplane alcohol. I never thanked you for that smile. Thank you.

I pulled you away from them and out the airport exit before you had a chance to add anything. I knew where to go. I'd been here before. Found the perfect spot. Somewhere no one would know to look for you.

I dragged you to the right and into the overgrown garden that lined the edges of Bangkok airport. I wanted to just carry you but figured that if we did get caught in here it would look worse for me to be carrying an out-of-it girl into the bushes. At least on your feet you looked semi-lucid.

I found the crevice in the wall next to the trash I'd chosen months ago. I pulled you close again, so that your eyes were in line with my mouth.

"I know you don't understand what's going on or what's happening, or hell, even what I'm saying to you. Just know that you're safe now but won't be if you don't get-," you stopped me mid whisper but reaching out to my lips. You tried to catch them but I just closed my hand around yours and kept going, "get changed. Co-operate…please."

You hesitated for a second and I thought I would have to undress you. But then you moved your hand to the button on your jeans and started undoing it. You unzipped them, the drugs causing you to miss the zipper a few times. You started to pull down your jeans. I thought you were going to fall back into the wall and smash your head you swayed so much, so I moved closer to you, letting you lean on me.

You managed to free your legs a minute later and the jeans hit the ground. You stepped out of them, your side still pressed against me. Your underwear was black. Those things that look like mini shorts. I felt bad looking at you half dressed while you were basically unconscious. But it wasn't like I hadn't seen you in your underwear before.

Still, I turned around after handing you your new clothes. I wanted to give you as much privacy as I could, even if it was just an illusion because I kept an eye on you in my peripheral vision. Just in case you fell or got stuck. Your bra was blue, like the top you'd been wearing.

When your new top was on you and I knew I wouldn't have to turn to catch you quickly I pulled off my own shirt. We both needed to be disguised for this to work. I went to put on the new shirt but you reached out and touch my back. Not hard. Only your fingertips touched the skin. But still it felt so good. I wanted to turn around and hold that hand. Feel your lips. Do other things too.

But we needed to get to the flight and for all I knew you thought you had seen a butterfly on my back and reached out to catch it. So I pulled the shirt over my back and did up the buttons as fast as I could. Then I finished of my masterpiece, adding a light brown wig to your head, a ruby red to your lips and a set of shades over your eyes.

I picked your little bag up from the ground and threw it into suite 5A's trash bin. You swayed a bit when a small gust of wind rolled past us, carrying away the old you with it. I thought it was the right time to use the chocolates so I grabbed one from my pocket and fed it to you. I don't think you liked it because you're face went all scrunched. But it had to be done. I'm sorry.

It would keep you down, mellow. That much I knew. I didn't know what was it in though. I'd bought it from the same guy as I'd bought the powder from, no to mention all the other stuff back in Australia. I knew it was some sort of roofie thing. I'd tried it, same as all the other stuff I'd given to you. It worked. On me and on you because your eyes were starting to glaze over. To slip away from consciousness. It was time to go.

I wrapped my arm around your side to hold you steady. You closed your eyes. I secretly hoped it wasn't because you were repulsed by my touch.

Ignoring that thought I pulled you back through the shrubs to the path. Twigs ripped at your wig; as if they wanted to keep you there, or take your disguise and expose what I was doing to the world. We reached the path though and I stopped to pull two from your hair.

I heaved you towards back towards the entrance closer to our gate. You weren't heavy-even though my arm around you was basically carrying you-but I was stressed now. I could feel a trickle a sweat running down my back.

The air conditioner felt particularly good as we came through the doors. As if the air pouring down was telling me to calm down. That you were mine. And everything was going to be okay.

Our gate wasn't far. You probably don't remember this. I had to keep feeding you chocolates as we walked. Just in case you were to speak and ruin everything. By the time I went to give you the fourth one you were out. So I put it in my pocket for the plane.

We got through all right. There was no luggage to check. Nothing unnecessary to deal with. Just us. You and me.

The ladies at the gate thought it was cute when I told them how you still had a hang over from our previous flight. They smiled and giggled at your closed eyes, telling me to make sure you had plenty of water and Panadol when you woke up. I grinned back at them.

You were pretty good on the plane. Some of the other passengers looked at me weirdly when I had to basically pour you into your seat. I think the person beside you thought it was weird that you didn't say anything in the fourteen hours it took to get to Darwin. A kept feeding you chocolates. You were barely able to chew them. I thought you might choke on one so I made sure you chewed each one at least six times.

A little boy asked me for one about five hours into the flight. I had to tell him that you had low blood sugar and needed them. Apart from that the flight was pretty uneventful. Flight attendants asked if you were ok. I spawned the same excuses as I'd used in the airport. People were so trusting.

When we got to Darwin I took you to the bathroom. The one in the old part of the airport that no one really used. I didn't want to draw attention for taking a girl into the guy's toilets. I could've used the 'honeymoon' excuse, people hadn't dared to question it so far. But I didn't know whether or not Bangkok airport had alerted all airports of your disappearance.

You were just waking as we went in. Not anywhere lucid but enough to know that when we got into the stall you could go to the toilet.

By the time we got outside into the carpark though you were coming into full conscious. Your eyes started to focus and I was out of chocolates to feed you. You started to squirm. Your arms reached out into the air. Your legs lifted of the ground in an effort to gat away. The night sky at least us cover from anyone seeing you. But you were going to scream. I could tell. And there was nothing the night could do about that. But there was something I could do. I pulled out the cloth.

I used my weight to pull you into the side of a truck. I tried to shush you while holding a hand over your mouth. The hand holding the cloth not wanting to move unless it had to.

It had been sitting in my back pocket from the flight over. I'd read somewhere that the chloroform was meant to stay potent for a couple of days after pouring it onto the cloth. I didn't know if it would work because I hadn't tried it myself. I'd smelt it though. It seemed pretty powerful.

You wouldn't stay quiet though. You just kept trying to scream through my hand. So I held it up to your mouth, praying it would work. You slumped down so fast I almost let you slip through my arms. But you didn't. I caught you.

Your eyes rolled back as I picked you up off the ground. It was so much faster just carrying you to the car. I put you in the boot. Just in case someone stopped us. Sometimes the coppas liked to get people on the back roads. Having them see you unconscious next to me in the front seat wouldn't do us any favours.

I closed the boot gently. Not wanting to slam it down on you. You looked so peaceful in there. So tiny, so fragile.

My only regret as I got into the drivers seat was not being able to share this with you. The drive to forever. _Our_ forever.

But there would be sharing when you woke up. A lot of sharing.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey guys! Thank you so much for all the favourites, alerts and reviews! Keep them coming! Here's the next chapter, although it's more like a teaser cause it's so short. But I couldn't put in more because I've leant my copy of Stolen to a friend and I wasn't able to check specifics of the house or area around it. I really am striving for total believability with this fic, I want it as close to the book as possible. So, sorry but I'm waiting for the book to get back before I can write anything that happens in the house. To my fabulous reviewers: Cassidy1661, lonelygirl101, JellyBabe, booknerdforever, ellasaurus, silverwolfkitten, Darkness Flowers, meggiez, wow-wie, Evil Little Leprechaun, readingtilldawn – thankyou so much! Loved all your feedback! Hope you enjoy this! Please review!_

_P.S To all my reviewers I am open to any criticism, corrections, whatever, and I do go back and try to fix the mistakes in the chapters so feel free to point out anything that bugs you. Nora =P_

**BEGINNING FOREVER…ON THE WRONG FOOT**

I hadn't heard you in a long time. You were still in the boot, unconscious. But up til now your body had hit one of the metal walls of your cage every once in a while. If you had of been conscious it would have sent jolts of pain through you. But I didn't want to hurt you. That wasn't why you were here. I hope you knew that.

Now that the comforting clash of your presence was gone, the silence that loomed from the boot was unsettling. At least a clang every once in a while had assured me of your presence, even if you weren't present mentally. It let me know I wasn't alone. That I wouldn't ever be alone. I had you.

The heat of the outback was coming through into the car now and it didn't help the nervous feeling the empty air was creating. All it did was make every kilometre the horizon added that much more frustrating. I knew I had to get out and check on you, pull you out. But what if you were awake, pushing your hands into the boot to hold your body rigid and silent? What if when I opened the lid, you opened your eyes? I had so wanted you not to see this-this blank expanse on the way to forever. This couldn't be your first encounter with the desert. It had to be in our home, the place where you'd grow to love the desert. Not here.

But the heat was relentless, it pushed it's way into my lungs–bogging and boiling them. On a different day, I would've welcomed it. Let it sink into my skin, into my soul. But all it that it was today was a hindrance to my concentration, a blockade in the road to forever.

Anger boiled in me and I punched the steering wheel, my knuckles turning the same angry red of the desert floor. I had to get out and check on you. It was getting too hot and you hadn't made a sound-incidental or otherwise-for an hour.

I slammed the brakes on. As I wrenched my door open, red dust swirled around me. Mad at our sudden stop. Pushing myself through it I came to the end of the beaten up off-roader. I curled my fingers up into the latch that opened the boot, pressing hard. It popped back towards me and I swung it up.

You were a strange combination of white pallid skin and sweat. My fingers reached into the grove of your neck trying to feel life in you. Your skin burnt. Something weak tapped back at my fingers. You were okay. Well, not really okay. But alive. I pulled you out into the air. You were still unconscious, limp in my arms. Your feet were bare. Your little shoes had slipped off during the ride. I swung you up so that both my arms were around you and your feet were safe from the boiling desert sand.

You were so hot against me, like an instant fever. So hot. All I could think was _fuck, I could have killed you._ I hadn't really thought about airflow. I'd just been so focused on getting you, then getting out. After years of careful planning the thought that I'd killed you by accident was too much.

I stood there, just holding you. Trying to repair the damage I'd down to your temperature. The heat around us was overwhelming, but compared to boot it was like we'd just taken a trip to the snow. I must have stood there for about twenty minutes. Ten of those minutes I spent deliberating whether or not to put you back in the boot. I was accepting now that maybe my vision of you first seeing the desert from our home wasn't going to happen but if you woke up in the cab and started causing a ruckus I could crash the car. Then we would really be stuck. I couldn't deal with another airport scene in side the confines of a car. Boot was safer. Contained. So boot it was.

I slipped you back into the boot as soon as your temperature had returned to normal, or as normal as it could be in the desert. I moved your limbs around, trying to fit you into the confines in a way that would be most comfortable to you. As I went to push your side back to get you into a better position blue gleamed off the skin of your hip. The collisions with the metal wall of the boot had certainly left its mark on you.

So if you were ever wondering where the bruises came from, it was the sides of the boot, not me. I didn't touch you, like that, I swear.

I pulled the door of the boot down, closing it gently so as not to wake you. I didn't. I checked through the dusty window of the door that was the boot opening. Just to be sure. I got back into the car, more motivated to get there now. To get _home_.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey everyone! So, this is it, the awkward return to fanfiction after months/years away. I don't know if you even want to read more at this point but the other day Stolen caught my eye as I was pulling out my worn hunger games to loan to yet another person and I was suddenly drawn back in… Ty, Gemma, suddenly they were back in my mind and I simply had to say what was on his – so hence the update. As always, I would like to say thankyou for all the reviews, alerts, favourites. In particular, a special thankyou to these lovely reviewers:_

_silverwolfkitten, Darkness Flowers, ellasaurus, readingtilldawn, Isis1995, JellyBabe, bellawhitlock51, Cassidy1661, Demoniaque, Sophiee92, Lottexoxo, 814, True Escape, haileybean1355, Cassidy, MsCrossCountry18, Sugar Caki, Spike's Number One Pet, StolenFan, mysticrox123, SidneyFell, ReginaVerborum, , Ten-Second-Tom, angelawesomely, Lindsay, Ali Linn Summers, Cparaison, Hitsugi Zirkus, inee, V a n i l l a . S k y y, Elizabeth Stenson, storydreamer789, KaosKrystal, bookworm123456 and Vball6 – thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, if not for your reviews I probably would not even have been willing to put this into writing. _

_I hope you all enjoy getting back into the corners of Ty's mind. Hopefully we'll get to stay there a bit longer (meaning I don't intend on another break). Please review =)_

_Nora_

**THE ARRIVAL**

Forever looked so much better now we were here. The sun bore down over it, lighting every particle of sand, every plank of wood, every angry branch of the distant twisted tree that offered the only differentiation amongst the sand scrub. Everything was in absolute light, and soon you would be too.

The silence your body had taken on in the boot had remained even after I'd pulled over. At first it had continued to hang over my head. Spreading worry, urging me to pull over and get you out again. Yet with every minute that I drove forward, its heaviness lessened. It even became comfortable, as I imagined you to be peacefully sleeping, dreaming of all the things we would do together. That thought was so much better than the reality of what I'd had to do. Yes, I did feel bad for doing it. But only for the way I took you, never for taking you. I'd had to. For me. _For you_.

The boot screeched as I opened it. Screeched at me to leave you alone. Its metal singed my knuckles as I reached down for you. It was fighting for you, a last ditch effort to keep us separate. But it held open, never wavering as I lifted you from its darkness. Even it knew there was no keeping us apart. I only wished you'd learned as quickly as it had.

Your skin burnt more than the metal. Its heat sunk into me as I pulled you in, holding you tight as I walked towards the door. It creaked, a sound familiar to me. A kind of welcome back in a language only we shared. A language you to would come to share.

I had wanted to stay outside for longer, just to feel this moment. Feel all the anticipation, years worth of it. It felt so heavy on my shoulders. You felt so light in my arms. I didn't linger though; anticipation propelled me forward. I couldn't wait. I wanted to be inside the house with you. Inside the house we would grow to know forever in.

I'm not much for formality or ritual. At least not any kind that society has to offer. That's what we were here for, to escape them. All of them. All the things that _mattered_ in the 'real' world, in the world of your parents, the world of grey streets and honking cars. But as I carried you in, my thoughts couldn't help but wander. We were finally together. You were safe. And now here we were, crossing the threshold. Just like a couple in that world. That supposedly 'real' world. I wondered if you'd ever thought about it. Being carried over the threshold. White dress drowning you, clean-shaven professional fumbling with a hotel key card as you clung to his neck.

And even though you were burning, unconscious and you didn't know me yet, I knew this was better for you than that lawyer or banker or doctor would ever be. I knew I was right for you. And you were right for me. How could that not be better?

I sidestepped down the corridor, angling your bare feet away from the walls, coming to your door. I hoped one day it might be my door too. But for now, it was yours and I wasn't going to challenge that. I didn't want us to know each other that way, as forcer and forced. That's not how I saw us. We sat equally in my eyes, both victims of the world.

You were so quiet as I lowered you into the bed. If not for the faint rise and fall of your t-shirt I would've worried. I moved the chair from the corner, pulling jeans from the drawers and boots from against the wall over to put on and under it. I'd left the bed without coverings before I left. Only a plain fitted sheet lay under you. I considered waking you for a moment. I told myself I should to make sure you were ok, but really I just wanted to hear you speak again. Hear you say my name… But my eyes caught your watch and the thought disappeared.

The watch was familiar to me. It'd covered your wrist almost every time I'd seen you for the last year. I knew that the stitching at the end of the upper band was unravelling, that the left side of the lower band was fraying and the suede underside was discoloured from the coke you spilled on it at the movies. I also knew it was important to your parents. That your mother was upset by your lack of care for its preservation and that your dad was proud of you wearing it, just as his father had been proud of him wearing the watch he'd received for his 16th birthday watch.

I must say, I took equal pride in taking it off.

I paused over you for a moment. Watchless. Timeless. Your wrist looked relaxed, relieved of its freedom from that symbol of urban hurry. There would be no hurry here. For us time did not exist. There was always tonight. There was always tomorrow. And there always would be.

Your crumpled frame still looked constricted. And I looked to the denim snaked around your legs as the culprit to be removed. I didn't know if I should. What you would think if I did. Well, actually I _did_ know what you would think. That was why I hesitated. But I could almost see the heat in the room pressing down on you, a force almost as foreign as me to you. I can't say I exactly decided to take your jeans off, but soon the zipper was down, the button undone and I was peeling them off your pale legs.

I pulled a sheet from the drawers to cover you with. Make it feel like a real bed. I thought it might make things a bit more comfortable than just bare legs. I took it by the corners, flicking it up into the ceiling and letting it float down over you. You didn't move as it drifted down, just as you hadn't since I poured you onto the bed.

You looked tempting. Lying there, unaware. I wanted to reach out, feel your hands, your arms, make sure you were real. I knew we couldn't be together yet. But I so wanted to be closer. Just a little closer…

You didn't move for about a day. I took to sitting on the chair beside you. Sometimes I sat on your jeans, sometimes I held them and let my hands run over the ridges of their denim as I watched over you. I thought about leaving, going to paint. Going to start on more anti-venoms. But I couldn't risk you waking alone. You'd missed so much getting here. But I had seen everything. And I wasn't going to miss this.

My body resisted tire. My eyelids never sagged, never fell. They stayed unmoving, fixed on you. I thought you were going to open your eyes a couple of times. But you didn't. Yet I still felt the same shot of adrenaline every time I thought you were waking.

After about four of these false wakes, your eyes finally did lift, adrenaline began to flow again and forever truly begun…


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey guys! I just want to warn you that this chapter kind of starts to show the differences between how Gemma saw Ty (calm, unmoving) and what Ty actually was like inside his own head – basically the subjective element of perspective. So I hope you enjoy taking another peek into Ty's mind. Thankyou soooooo much for the reviews, favourites, alerts & messages people =) Made my day/s! A special thankyou to these reviewers: inee, silverwolfkitten, mysticrox123, Jellybabe, Hitsugi Zirkus, Isis1995 & ViNi – double thankyous with cherries on top! Hope you enjoy, please review =)_

_P.S To silverwolfkitten thankyou for your suggestion =) I'd never really thought about doing the courtroom stuff but I always pictured Ty writing this during the court trial. So I thought I might try and reference what's going on in the courtroom as Ty is writing the letter – I've tried to do it a little in this chapter so let me know if it comes across ok =)_

_Nora_

**AWAKE**

Your eyes didn't like what they saw. You closed them tight again. Maybe you hoped the world would change before you opened them. But the world had already changed. It had changed in so many ways. And you were just waking to it now.

A slight movement under the sheet came from both of your sides. Your fingers, lifting themselves up one by one. I didn't really know why you were doing it but as your hands began searching your body, your motive suddenly clicked.

"I haven't raped you."

It hurt me to have to _tell_ you that. It just made the gap between us feel so much wider. I knew who you were. Not just your name, your school, your age. Not just the statistics that made you who you were to everyone else. But who you were, from the inside out. Completely.

You knew nothing about me. Not even the statistics. I wanted you to know who I was so badly. Because if you did, you'd know that I wouldn't have to tell you. You'd know that I wouldn't. And you wouldn't be reacting the way that you were.

Your fingers twisted themselves into the sheet. You were in no way comforted by my statement. Your head was swinging round, searching for me. Your eyes, being less sharp in their movements than your neck, missed me in the corner to your side. You pushed yourself towards the edge of the bed, scurrying away from my voice. But your arms slumped and your body hit the bed with a soft thud. Your face had pressed itself down into the pillow, a cry from your dry throat was swallowed by it.

It is this moment that always rushes to my mind whenever the lawyers ask you whether I ever showed remorse, or even felt it. It's the question you always hesitate at. I don't know what comes into your head when they ask, _what makes you hesitate_, but whenever you do, I always want to drag you into my mind, and show you this, the first moment I ever felt doubt in the years and years I had devoted to you, to _us_.

Because seeing you strung out, terrified of me, crying into a pillow… I can't even tell you. At the time my mind was a blur of swearing and questions I couldn't or didn't want to answer. _Fuck. What have I done to her? Fuck. What do I do now?_ If the people who print those papers with my photo under the headline 'monster' could've seen what you looked like on that bed, I'm sure they would feel justified in their assumption. But looking back, I know the one question that was lying underneath all that. The one question that I didn't even want to admit to myself, even in my own head. _Should I take her back?_

I don't know where it came from, and I don't even know why I thought it. _We were here. We were together. This was right. _But seeing you so close, made everything that I'd set in my mind shift, until I was left struggling to compose myself, searching for what to say after years of thinking about what I would say at this moment.

I can't even remember what I said to you. You probably don't remember either. Something about clothes I think. The most unimportant thing I could possibly say. I moved towards you, trying to show you there wasn't anything to be afraid of. I stopped next to the bed, not knowing what to do. You looked up, aware of my closeness, and for the first time since we'd arrived, your eyes met mine.

I don't know what you thought when you saw me. But you definitely thought something. Your eyes looked so sad, like you wished it wasn't me. But it hurt to think that you wished I wasn't here, that you would've preferred to spend forever with someone else, so I cut my thoughts off and tried to talk.

"I brought you here…" You didn't react. I moved closer, my legs pressing into the bed. I felt my throat tighten as I struggled to find something to say. Something that sounded like sorry. Because in that moment, I think I was sorry. "You'll feel sick because of the effects of the drugs. You'll feel weird for a little while… shallow breathing, vertigo, nausea, hallucinations…"

Your eyes scrunched closed as you asked your first question, _"why?"_

"…I had to." I wanted to make you understand everything that was hidden beneath those three words, _why_ I had to. I wanted you to understand how it was killing you. How your parents, your friends, the city, were draining you. I lowered myself down onto the mattress, wanting to comfort you, wanting all these thoughts to flow from my head into yours. But they didn't and you struggled trying to distance yourself from me. You gave up and curled your legs up into your chest.

"Where am I?"

I didn't know what to say. It was the simplest question you could've asked. I knew how you wanted me to answer. Wanted me to give you some kind of geographic reference. And I knew how I wanted to answer: _'home…'_

But how could I tell you that you were home when you'd never even been here before? I couldn't. I just had to tell you what I thought was important.

"You're here… You're safe."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! So long time no update – yes I know. Life happens. But merry early christmas…**

THE CHASE

Time drifted slowly. I wanted you to wake up.

Sometimes you did. Sometimes I made you. You took in the food I gave you, the water. Barely. But you weren't really awake. Fog still hung over your eyes and your limbs slumped against the bed.

I knew it was the drugs forcing you back into sleep and sometimes I wished I hadn't given you so much at the airport. But the idea of forever made me patient. I knew I could afford to give you time. And so I did.

I let you have your sleep and I returned to the world outside your room. Painting, hunting, preparing. I still checked on you. I used the paint as my guide, whenever it dried I rushed to your room, hoping to see your eyes, unclouded, on me as I came in. But every time shut lids and disappointment greeted me.

I pulled you from the bed twice. Each time debating how much you needed the sweat and dirt to disappear versus how much of your trust I would lose when you found out. Not that I had any trust to lose at that point. I don't know if I ever really had any trust from you, at any point. But regardless of what I did or didn't have, I want you to know, I never did. You stayed clothed, unrevealed the entire time. You probably were already certain of that, given the way you had to wake up. But just in case.

Even though I could see sweat pooling on you, your skin rejecting the unknown heat of your new home, I think I knew I was never going to actually bathe you. The furthest I ever took you was the hall before my conscious kicked back into gear and I laid you back to rest. To be honest, everytime I went to lift you from that bed, I was only being selfish. I just wanted to hold you, to feel you. To reassure myself you were real, you were here and everything was beginning. Just by holding you, all my doubts, uncertainties about taking you back, were washed away.

I don't know if you remember any of this. You were out stone cold everytime. Sometimes I convinced myself that your breathing slowed or sped up or that life came back into your face while I held you. I wanted you react, to feel me. Even from your dreams.

I imagined what would happen when you woke. Again. I imagined you silent but curious as I showed it all to you. Our house, our books, our forever. Your would be wary, cautious but open to the reality of your new home.

But sometimes you weren't curious. You weren't silent. You were sad. You were angry. You hated what I had done. Where I had brought you. You hated _me_. I didn't imagine this. I just saw it. Everytime I closed my eyes. Whenever I let myself sleep away the waiting. I didn't know whether it was just a nightmare or the reality of what was to come.

When I saw you stumble out into the open for the first time, I got my answer.

At first I wasn't sure you were really there. Being alone out here, it does things to your head. You see things, people that aren't. Delusion was a daily reality. But I wasn't alone anymore. I wasn't conjuring you up. And when you started to run, I was certain of that.

I use the term 'run' loosely. You'd been out for days. And the last time you were upright, you were drugged up enough for a man twice your size. You had some speed. I'll give you that. Enough for me to choose the off roader over going after you on foot.

Co-ordination was what was lacking. You limbs tangled and twisted as ran. And so did your path. You knew I was behind you and you didn't want me to be. You zigged and zagged, lept over the thorns of the covered ground and sunk into the burning sand of the outback. I followed each turn, staying on you. I obviously wanted you to stop but at the same time, I will say I was tempted to let you keep running. Not too far. Just enough to drain the anger and energy out of you.

But the momentary thought quickly paased, when I saw what every step was costing you. Your feet were turning an angry red, your speed was slowing - you were on the edge of collapse. I spun out in front of you, your slowing steps allowing me to. The flare of dust from the spin covered you for a moment, shielded you from me. I was sure you'd hit the ground as I searched for you in it. You had.

I killed the engine, my eyes not leaving your body. Seeing you there, gasping for breath, surrounded by dust, spent and cut, I felt a bubble of anger start to form. _Why were you doing this? I was here and you were safe. Why run from the only person that could help you? The only person who loved you?_ I tried to make you understand.

"It's no use. You won't find anything. You won't find anyone."

A wail erupted from your throat and I knew it was time to take you back home. I wrenched the door open and pulled you from the ground. Your t-shirt was soaked underneath my hand. You seemed to have given up, letting your arms drag along the ground, scratches and cuts working themselves into your skin. Your head began to move again. Towards my hand. I thought maybe you were so far gone that you weren't even sure who or what was pulling you. But you knew.

Pain seared through my veins and curses came from my lips as your teeth sunk into my hand. I let go of your shirt, reflexively snatching my torn hand away from the attacker. You used my distraction. Your feet beginning to carry you away from me.

But weren't getting away. _Ever._

I lunged forward. Throwing myself on you, tackling you to the ground. You hit the ground with a thud and in that moment I didn't care that I my weight was pushing you down into the earth. I didn't care that I was crushing you. All I cared was that I you were against me and you weren't getting away. You were mine and I wasn't going to let go.

I spoke into your ear, 'Give in.. Gemma, can't you see there's _nowhere _to go?'

You didn't like what you heard. I felt you move beneath me. Felt everyone of your curves struggle underneath me, only causing you to sink further into the sand. I expected you to say something. To cry out at me. But your last form of resistance didn't come in the form of verbal abuse…

**Also just wanted to say, I **_**really, really**_** do appreciate everyone of the reviews/alerts/favourites this story gets regardless of whether I am updating or not. I am sooo thankful for every single one. So to anyone who leaves reviews on any story on FF – you are making someone's day. And that's a pretty nice thing to be doing. So keep it up on **_**any**_** FF you read. I'm sure karma is building in your favour :)**


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